Here is the power scaling
Power Level Tiers
Albedo ( 1 - 3 Rank)
Rubedo ( 4- 6 Rank)
Nigredo( 7-9 Rank)
Aurum ( Rank 10 and above)
_________________
"Rest assured, Headmaster, we are professionals in economic warfare. As long as the supply is sufficient and the quality is top-notch, I am confident that the Brasan Merchant Association will become a household name in Bulwar within half a month."
"Don't worry about funding."
Steve took out another bag and tossed it over; it clinked with the sound of solid gold ingots.
"I will provide an unlimited supply. Not only must you establish a firm foothold in Bulwar, but you must also open branch stores in all surrounding towns to form an initial commercial network."
"Yes."
Camir received it solemnly.
After speaking, Steve led Muriel and Alex out of the shop.
He didn't leave immediately, instead strolling along the main street called the Gold Street.
As they reached the end of the street, a sudden commotion broke out ahead.
In front of an imposing mansion, a youth was being shoved out by two burly men who looked like domestic servants, stumbling a few steps before falling to the ground.
The plaque above the mansion's gate bore the words 'Randuil Manor,' a training family of some standing in Bulwar.
"Sir, please don't make things difficult for us,"
one of the servants said in a sarcastic tone.
"The Master has ordered that starting today, you are to move to the servant quarters in the West Courtyard. You'll receive three ounces of silver a month for living expenses. As for this main courtyard, don't come back here."
The youth struggled to stand. He was about fifteen or sixteen, wearing green cloth clothes, his face pale but his gaze stubborn.
"On what grounds? I am also a legitimate son of House Randuil! My father has only been dead for three months, and you dare treat me like this?"
The other servant sneered.
"On what grounds? On the grounds that your brother was tested yesterday and found to have a manaual root. He's already been scouted by an outer professor of the Bluestar Academy and will be heading to the immortal Academy to train next month."
"And you? Sir, you've been tested eight times, and every single time you had no manaual root. You don't even have the qualification to train. House Randuil doesn't support idlers, understand?"
The surrounding commoners pointed and whispered; some were sympathetic, some mocked, but most were indifferent. The training world was just that realistic—if you couldn't train, you were a waste to your family.
"Aren't you afraid that one day I might be able to train and come back for revenge?"
The servant reacted as if he'd heard a joke.
"Sir, if you could train, you would have done so long ago. You're already sixteen; your meridians are already set. It's impossible for you to draw mana motes into your body in this lifetime. I advise you to go to the servant quarters honestly so you can at least get a meal. If you keep making a scene, I'm afraid even those three ounces of silver will be gone."
Angulócë bit his lip hard, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. He took one last look at the vermilion gates of Randuil Manor and turned to leave.
After a few steps, he suddenly stopped and growled at the sky.
"We are all human. Why are some born able to train while others are not? I refuse to accept this!"
This low growl was filled with resentment and fury. It wasn't conspicuous on the noisy street, but it happened to reach Steve's ears.
All human...
Watching the scene in front of Randuil Manor, thoughts raced through Steve's mind.
"Human... they are all human..."
He repeated these words under his breath, his gaze suddenly becoming profound.
Villagers were also humanoid creatures; they could trade and reproduce. Although their combat power was low, in that square world with its unique rules, they were indeed a form of human existence.
Since the humans of this world could sense manaual energy and practice breathing techniques, could the equally humanoid Villagers also absorb the manaual energy of this world?
If successful, it would mean that America would possess an entirely new combat path.
No longer would they rely solely on external forces like weird cores, Zombies, and Iron Golems; instead, they would nurture sorcerer-type creatures that could truly train.
At that time, the Sovereign Simulacra Academy could not only recruit local disciples but also mass-produce Villager sorcerers. This would completely shatter the traditional model of academies in this realm relying only on manaual circuits to screen disciples.
Thinking of this, Steve's gaze fell once more upon the youth who had been kicked out of Randuil Manor.
This youth was only sixteen but had already tested his manaual root eight times without success. In this world where training was supreme, such an experience was miserable.
But it was precisely this kind of desperate situation that could trigger the strongest will to survive and the desire to change one's fate.
"Isn't this the perfect protagonist template?"
The corners of Steve's mouth curled up slightly.
Although he didn't know if this youth could truly walk a path no one had walked before, at the very least, this temperament was worth a try.
If he could make him train successfully and then use him as a template to let the Villagers follow the same training path...
The Sovereign Simulacra Academy would possess a true army of sorcerers that could continuously grow as their realms increased.
Hesitating no longer, Steve stepped forward, his figure like the wind, instantly blocking the path of Angulócë, who was about to leave.
"Boy, wait a moment."
Angulócë Randuil was immersed in grief and indignation when his path was suddenly blocked. He was startled and instinctively backed up two steps, his face wary.
When he saw that the person blocking him was a youth in green robes who looked similar in age to himself but had an unfathomable aura, his heart tightened, and countless possibilities flashed through his mind.
"Are you someone sent by House Randuil?"
Angulócë's hands tightened unconsciously.
He already had nothing. If House Randuil wouldn't even let him keep his life...
Steve shook his head and didn't answer the question, instead asking directly,
"Do you want to change your fate?"
Angulócë was stunned.
Change his fate?
Who wouldn't want to?
Since he was six years old, he had looked forward to the day of manaual root testing every year, struggling between hope and despair each time.
But reality had cast him into the abyss time and time again.
"I cannot train."
Angulócë lowered his head, his voice filled with despair.
"I don't even have a manaual root; how can we talk about changing fate?"
"What if I said I have a way to let you train?"
Steve looked at him calmly, his tone carrying a sense of confidence.
Angulócë looked up sharply, a flash of disbelief in his eyes, but it quickly dimmed.
"Sir, please do not joke with me. Everyone in the world knows that those without manaual circuits can never draw mana into their circuits. This is an iron law."
"An iron law?"
Steve smiled.
"Iron laws are meant to be broken."
He paused and continued,
"Do you want to join my Academy?"
Angulócë was stunned again.
Join a Academy?
He was a waste; even the lowest-tier minor Academy wouldn't take him. Yet this Sir was actively inviting him?
"Sir, are you really not sent by the family to kill me?"
Angulócë asked cautiously, his eyes still wary.
Steve shook his head and said slowly,
"I have no connection with House Randuil. I was just passing by and saw your indignation in front of the manor gate; it reminded me of some friends."
"The friends you mentioned..."
"Like you, they were once considered beings who could not train."
Steve's gaze was far-reaching.
"But I don't believe in fate, and I certainly don't believe in any iron laws. All things in this world have flaws and opportunities to be exploited."
Angulócë's heart was shaken.
This Sir's words carried a confidence that made one involuntarily want to believe him.
"But, why choose me?"
Angulócë was still puzzled.
"I'm just a waste. Wouldn't it be easier for you to find any disciple with a manaual root and train them instead?"
"Because everyone can walk the easy path."
Steve looked straight into Angulócë's eyes.
"The path I want you to walk is one that no one else has ever taken."
Angulócë's entire body shuddered.
"What did you say?"
"I want you to forge a path of training for those without mana circuits."
Steve spoke word by word, each one striking Angulócë's heart like a heavy hammer.
"That's impossible..."
Angulócë reflexively countered, but as the words reached his lips, he couldn't finish the sentence.
Because deep in his heart, had he not fantasized about such a possibility?
It was just that reality had told him time and again that it was a pipe dream.
"Don't be in such a hurry to refuse,"
Steve continued.
"Our Academy possesses resources beyond your imagination. As long as it is mana Grass, as long as it suits your constitution and helps you break through, it will all be supplied to you."
"Endlessly."
Steve spoke those last two words nonchalantly, yet they made Angulócë gasp.
An endless supply of mana Grass?
Even a Academy like the Bluestar Academy only allowed inner disciples to receive a fixed amount of training resources every month; who would dare claim it was endless?
"Sir, what exactly are you after?"
Angulócë finally asked the most crucial question.
There was no such thing as a free lunch; for this Sir to be so generous, he must have a motive.
"I'm after you,"
Steve stated frankly.
"If you succeed, then my friends within the Academy who, like you, cannot train will have hope."
Angulócë fell silent.
He carefully observed the youth before him and saw sincerity in his eyes.
It wasn't a hypocritical recruitment; he truly believed Angulócë could do it.
"Sir, may I ask what your Academy is called..."
Angulócë was finally moved.
Whether he succeeded or not, this was at least an opportunity.
An opportunity to cast off the title of 'trash' and truly take hold of his own destiny.
"Sovereign Simulacra Academy."
Steve uttered the three words.
Angulócë searched his memory quickly but had no recollection of it.
Academies were as numerous as trees in a forest on Aldebarran, with at least a thousand having some renown, but he had never heard the name Sovereign Simulacra Academy.
However, on second thought, the training world was full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers; it was normal for some reclusive academies to remain unknown.
Those with famous names might be truly powerful, or they might be frauds.
Those without names might be truly weak, but they could also be deep and unfathomable.
Just as Angulócë was hesitating, Steve suddenly raised a hand slightly.
In an instant, a pressure as majestic as a mountain was quietly released, yet it was precisely controlled within a three-foot radius around Angulócë, without a single shred leaking out.
Angulócë felt his breath hitch, as if an invisible mountain were pressing down on him, making it difficult to even move a finger.
But this pressure came and went quickly, vanishing in a flash.
Yet in that single moment, Angulócë's face had turned deathly pale, and cold sweat soaked his back.
"This, this is..."
He looked at Steve in terror.
He had only felt that kind of pressure from his family ancestor, a powerful expert at the Late-stage Aurum.
And that ancestor had already been training and meditating for over two hundred years.
This Sir before him looked no more than sixteen or seventeen; did he truly possess such strength?
"This junior is willing to join the Sovereign Simulacra Academy."
Angulócë no longer hesitated, falling to his knees with a thud and kowtowing heavily.
At this moment, the last shred of doubt in his heart vanished into thin air.
A Academy capable of nurturing such a young powerhouse—how could it be ordinary?
"Very well."
Steve nodded and reached out to help him up.
"Rise. Follow me back to the Academy."
Angulócë stood up and followed respectfully behind Steve.
The two of them walked one after the other toward the Gold Street.
Just as they reached the entrance of the Brasan Merchant Association, they saw a crowd gathered there, filled with constant clamor.
Steve frowned slightly and looked over.
He saw Eranil, the shopkeeper of Eranil's Oddities, leading five or six men who looked like guards, blocking the chamber's entrance aggressively.
"People inside, get out here right now!"
Eranil stood at the very front, pointing at the chamber door and shouting, his face full of arrogance.
He had been scared witless by the way Steve's trio vanished into thin air, and the more he thought about it after returning, the more afraid he became, losing sleep all night.
But this morning, he heard from a shop assistant that the Li Family Grocery Store had actually been taken over and turned into the Brasan Merchant Association, and renovations had already begun, as if they really intended to open for business.
Eranil immediately couldn't sit still.
The training resource business on Gold Street had always been dominated by Eranil's Oddities; the other small shops either sold ordinary herbs or were too small to pose a threat.
But if a truly capable competitor arrived, his business would inevitably suffer.
More importantly, the mysterious disappearance of those three yesterday had left him with lingering fears, but on second thought, if the other party really had strength at the Aurum Stage or above, why would they come to Bulwar to open a shop?
In the training world, strength is respected; an Aurum sorcerer could go to any major Academy to be a guest professor and enjoy offerings—why would they need to do business themselves?
Thinking this way, Eranil felt the other party might just have some special tricks and wasn't necessarily that strong.
Furthermore, his cousin was an outer disciple deacon of the Bluestar Academy; in this small corner of Bulwar, the Bluestar Academy was the law.
With this connection, Eranil's courage swelled again.
So early this morning, he brought people over, intending to give this new shop a warning blow.
At this moment, the chamber doors opened, and Camir walked out with two deacons.
Camir had changed into a set of green priest robes today, his hair and beard groomed meticulously, holding a whisk, looking quite like a transcendent immortal.
The two deacons behind him were also economic experts in disguise, currently expressionless with calm gazes.
"This fellow priest, may I ask what guidance you have?"
Camir asked with a cupped-fist salute, his tone neither humble nor arrogant.
Eranil sized him up; seeing the other party's aura was restrained and he couldn't tell his depth, his heart settled slightly, but his expression remained arrogant.
"I am Eranil, the shopkeeper of Eranil's Oddities. On this Gold Street, the training resource business has always been handled by my Eranil's Oddities. You are newcomers and don't know the rules; I can understand that."
He paused, his tone shifting.
"But since you want to open a shop on this street, you must follow the rules here."
"Oh? What rules?"
Camir asked calmly.
"It's simple,"
Eranil sneered.
"First, close your shop. Second, take all the goods you've prepared for your shop and send them to Eranil's Oddities as a tribute."
These words were spoken without any politeness, a blatant act of robbery.
The surrounding commoners and sorcerers whispered among themselves, but no one dared to step forward.
Eranil's Oddities had operated in Bulwar for centuries and had a deep background; everyone knew Eranil had a cousin in the Bluestar Academy—who would dare offend him?
Hearing this, Camir smiled.
"And what if I refuse?"
"Refuse?"
Eranil's face darkened.
"Then don't blame me for being impolite."
He waved his hand, and the five guards behind him immediately surrounded them.
These five were all at the Rubedo stage of mana gathering; they were considered decent among loose sorcerers and often helped Eranil do his dirty work.
"Smash it!"
Eranil shouted.
The five guards moved at his command; two of them lunged directly at Camir, while the other three rushed toward the shop's main entrance.
However, they had only taken two steps when they saw Camir lightly wave his sleeve.
"Bang! Bang!"
Two muffled thuds rang out almost simultaneously.
The two guards who had lunged at Camir felt as if they had slammed into an invisible wall. They were sent flying backward, crashing heavily onto the marble ground ten meters away, spitting blood and unable to get up for a long time.
Seeing this, the other three froze in place, caught in a dilemma.
Camir slowly stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over Eranil.
"Now, do you still want to smash the shop?"
Eranil's face turned pale, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead.
He hadn't seen how the other party attacked at all; he only felt an invisible force instantly send the two guards flying.
Such a technique could only be achieved by at least a Aurum stage sorcerer.
Aurum stage...
In the entire Bulwar, there were no more than a dozen Aurum sorcerers, each of whom was an honored guest of major powers.
"Sir, please appease your anger!"
With a thud, Eranil fell to his knees and kowtowed repeatedly.
"It was this lowly one who was blind and offended you sir. I deserve to die, I deserve to die!"
As he spoke, he slapped himself hard, the sound ringing out as his cheeks quickly became red and swollen.
Camir looked at him coldly without saying a word.
Eranil's fear grew even deeper, and he quickly added.
"Sir, since you are doing business, this lowly one would never dare to disturb you again. From now on, you have the final say on this street. Eranil's Oddities is willing to yield seventy percent—no, ninety percent of our business to you."
"Scram."
Camir spat out a single word.
"Yes, yes, yes! This lowly one will scram right now, scram right now!"
As if granted a grand reprieve, Eranil scrambled to his feet and fled with the injured guards without looking back, not even daring to leave a parting threat.
Seeing this, the onlookers all gasped.
Eranil, the manager of Eranil's Oddities, was considered a figure of some importance in Bulwar. Usually arrogant and overbearing, no one expected him to kick a steel plate today and end up in such a pathetic state.
It seemed the background of this newly opened Brasan Merchant Association was not simple.
The crowd gradually dispersed, but the news spread through the entire Bulwar with startling speed.
Steve stood in the distance, taking everything in.
He was in no hurry to show himself because the Zombie body controlled by Camir, although only at the sixth-rank strength, could crush a few mana gathering stage guards as easily as ants.
However, Eranil's actions today gave Steve a new idea.
"It seems this Eranil plans to use the power of the Bluestar Academy to deal with us."
The corners of Steve's mouth curled slightly.
"In that case, why not go with the flow and see if I can use this Eranil to drag the Bluestar Academy into this as well?"
If he could create a conflict with the Bluestar Academy through Eranil, then the Sovereign Simulacra Academy could legitimately intervene in the struggles between the academies of this realm, laying the groundwork for the future unification mission.
However, this matter required careful planning and could not be rushed.
Steve composed his thoughts and walked over with Angulócë.
"Camir."
Seeing Steve approach, Camir quickly cupped his hands.
"Headmaster."
Steve nodded and pointed at Angulócë behind him.
"This is a newly recruited disciple. I am taking him back to the Academy."
Camir looked at Angulócë; seeing that although his clothes were simple, his eyes were firm, he couldn't help but nod.
"His character is also good; he's a fine seedling."
"Camir praises me too much."
Angulócë quickly bowed, but he was secretly surprised.
This Camir had a profound aura and was so respectful to this young Headmaster; it seemed the Sovereign Simulacra Academy was indeed unfathomable.
"I'll leave the merchant association's side to Camir."
Steve said.
"I will arrange the supply of goods as soon as possible."
"Rest assured, Headmaster. This old man will certainly manage the association properly."
Camir said solemnly.
Steve said no more, leading Angulócë out of the merchant association and toward the city outskirts.
After leaving the city gate and seeing no one around, Steve directly grabbed Angulócë's arm.
"Relax, do not resist."
With that, his figure flashed, turning into a streak of light that soared into the sky.
Angulócë only felt the wind whistling past his ears as the scenery before him receded rapidly. In just a few moments, they had already left the vicinity of Bulwar.
He looked down; the mountains and rivers below unfolded like a painting. He was actually flying.
Flying through the air was a technique that only Rubedo stage sorcerers could master.
Yet this Headmaster Steve was flying with a mortal like him so effortlessly, and his speed was incredibly fast.
Angulócë's heart was filled with incomparable shock, and his awe for the Sovereign Simulacra Academy deepened further.
About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a majestic complex of buildings appeared ahead.
With upturned eaves and bracket sets, continuous palaces, faint manaual light, and lingering immortal mist.
"Is this the Sovereign Simulacra Academy?"
Angulócë widened his eyes in disbelief.
He had never heard of any Academy daring to establish itself on the edge of the Immortal Falling Crater.
The baleful energy here soared to the heavens; ordinary sorcerers would suffer mental damage if they stayed too long, let alone train here.
"We've arrived."
Steve lowered his escape light and landed before the mountain gate.
The disciples guarding the gate saw Steve return and quickly bowed.
"Headmaster."
Steve nodded and led Angulócë into the Academy.
Along the way, Angulócë saw many disciples training and working. Their auras were steady and their steps vigorous; clearly, their training levels were not weak.
What surprised him even more was that these disciples showed little curiosity toward him, a stranger. They only glanced at him before continuing their tasks. Their discipline was so strict it didn't seem like a Academy, but rather an army.
The treasury was located beneath the main hall, protected by layers of restrictions. Only Steve and a few core personnel could enter.
Steve opened the treasury doors. The space inside was vast, with rows of jade shelves neatly arranged, holding various resources.
However, most of the jade shelves were still empty, with only a few holding items.
Steve categorized and stored the mana Grass he had just harvested. Then, he took out three portions of each type, placed them in a specially made storage bag, and handed it to Angulócë.
"Take these mana Grasses for now."
Angulócë took the storage bag and instantly gasped.
Inside the storage bag were Heart-Ice Grass, Fire-mana Flower... over twenty types of mana Grass, three portions each, and all of the finest maturity.
Combined, these mana Grasses were worth at least a thousand Low-grade mana stones.
Even if he sold all the assets of his former Randuil family, he probably couldn't gather even a third of this.
"This... Headmaster, this is too precious..."
Angulócë's voice was dry, and he subconsciously wanted to refuse. Although he craved resources, he also understood the principle of not receiving rewards without merit.
Steve merely waved his hand, his expression calm and unruffled.
"The Sovereign Simulacra Academy never mistreats its disciples. Take these first, try to sense the manaual energy, and temper your body. Remember, your constitution is unique; conventional mana-induction methods may not apply. In the early stages, do not force yourself to immediately draw mana into your body. The focus is to observe your body's reaction to various mana Grasses and the surrounding manaual energy."
He paused for a moment before adding,
"Every seven days, a research deacon from the Academy will examine your body and record data. You must inform them in detail of every attempt you make and every sensation you feel after consuming the mana herbs."
Angulócë was stunned, keenly catching the key words in that statement.
"Examine my body? Record data? Headmaster, this is..."
"It is for you, and for people like you, to pioneer an unprecedented path."
Steve looked him straight in the eye, his tone filled with certainty.
"How can those without mana circuits train? No one in this realm can answer that, but in my Sovereign Simulacra Academy, there are no rules that absolutely cannot be broken. We will use the most systematic and rigorous methods to analyze every bit of interaction between manaual energy and your body—deducing, testing, and optimizing until we find the path that belongs to you."
Pioneering a training technique?
Deducing a training method?
Angulócë was completely dazed.
In his understanding, training techniques were all created by ancient experts through their comprehension of heaven and earth, or improved upon through generations within a Academy over thousands of years. Where did this talk of 'pioneering' and 'deducing' come from?
This sounded almost like... like forging a dharma treasure, rather than the profound and mysterious path of training.
Was this truly something a Academy could achieve?
Stormy waves surged in Angulócë's heart.
But looking at Steve's calm eyes, and recalling the majestic manaual power during their flight earlier, as well as the staggering boldness of building this Academy right next to the Immortal Falling Crater...
In truth, what Steve said was not a lie; he had simply simplified the massive system behind it.
The so-called body examinations and data recording actually involved mobilizing the top biotechnology, energy detection, and analysis teams from world's Starry Sky Base to conduct all-around monitoring of Angulócë.
From manaual energy affinity at the cellular level to the energy flow within the meridians and acupoints, and even the subtle changes in divine sense fluctuations—everything would be quantified, recorded, and modeled.
As for pioneering a training technique, it was essentially based on massive amounts of data combined with the decryption of immortal training texts. Supercomputers would be used to perform countless simulations to find the optimal energy circulation path. It was scientific training in the truest sense.
However, there was no need to explain these operational methods, which were beyond the imagination of this realm, to Angulócë for the time being.
"This disciple... understands."
Angulócë took a deep breath, suppressing the shock and wild joy in his heart, and solemnly tucked the storage bag close to his body.
"I will not fail the Headmaster's expectations and will cooperate fully."
Steve nodded and said no more, turning to leave the treasury.
His consciousness had already returned to his original body in the bedroom of the Xishan Villa.
Inside the quiet room, manaual energy was as dense as mist.
Although a fundamental method to restore manaual energy to the entire Earth had not yet been found, an alternative solution had already been proposed.
Since mana herbs could naturally gather and release manaual energy, then transplanting and training them in large quantities could artificially create a high-manaual-energy environment within a localized area.
At this moment, over a hundred various mana herbs were arranged in an orderly fashion on the jade racks and the floor of the quiet room.
More than half of them came from Aldebarran.
Under the continuous catalysis of bonemeal, these mana herbs grew lushly, constantly breathing out pure manaual energy. This made the concentration of manaual energy in the entire quiet room no less than that of some small to medium-sized mana veins on Aldebarran.
Not just this bedroom, but the entire Starry Sky Base and even the core areas of the Xishan Villa had undergone similar modifications.
Everywhere one looked, there were decorative mana herb potted plants or specialized manaual plant zones.
Although the scope was limited and far from comparable to a true training world, it was enough to maintain the manaual energy concentration in the base's core areas at a respectable level. This greatly accelerated the training speed of the personnel within the base, especially for beings like Steve and Muriel who required high-tier energy environments.
It could be said that by relying on this combination, world had successfully created several artificial manaual energy nodes on Earth.
In the center of the quiet room, Steve's main body and Muriel sat cross-legged facing each other.
The auras around the two of them merged harmoniously. One was a warm and vast golden light, containing thousands upon thousands of the power of faith and prayers.
The other was an intersection of holiness and depth, with the power of light and darkness flowing endlessly.
The heart of faith and the heart of the angel resonated at the same frequency. Nourished by the dense manaual energy, their training efficiency doubled.
Wisps of manaual energy were drawn in, merging into their cosmic cycles and tempering their physical bodies and souls.
Steve could feel his control over the power of faith becoming increasingly refined, while the phantom of the Eight Wings of Light and Darkness behind Muriel appeared more solid under the baptism of manaual energy, showing faint signs of evolving to a higher level.
Meanwhile, at Eranil's Oddities in Bulwar.
Eranil had a gloomy expression as he paced irritably in his room.
Several pieces of shattered porcelain lay on the table, a testament to his recent outburst of rage.
Today, he had been publicly humiliated on Gold Street. That old priest surnamed Camir had injured his guards with a wave of his hand, and he himself had been forced to kneel and beg for mercy, losing all face.
The news had likely spread throughout the city by now, and the reputation of Eranil's Oddities had hit rock bottom.
"Brasan Merchant Association."
Eranil gritted his teeth, his eyes full of venomous resentment.
"How dare you make me, look so pathetic and cut off my source of wealth? I'm not finished with you."
He knew well that he was by no means a match for that Camir; the opponent had at least a Aurum stage training, perhaps even higher.
Relying solely on the strength of Eranil's Oddities, seeking revenge would be like an egg striking a stone.
However, for Eranil to establish himself in Bulwar for decades, he had never relied on his own training.
He walked quickly to his desk, spread out a specially made message-transmitting talisman paper, and began writing rapidly with sharp strokes.
"Your younger brother Fu has been operating in Bulwar, always minding his own business. However, recently an evil foreign Academy called Tian Kui has forcibly occupied a storefront on Gold Street and opened the Brasan Merchant Association. They specialize in mana herbs and pills, maliciously squeezing your brother's business.
When your brother tried to reason with them, their thugs brazenly attacked, severely injuring the guards and publicly humiliating your brother. They even claimed they do not care for the Bluestar Academy.
This Academy acts overbearingly and its background is unknown; they are likely not good people. If this continues, not only will your brother's foundation be lost, but it may also disrupt the order of Bulwar and damage the Bluestar Academy's prestige here.
I earnestly request my professor cousin to report this to the Academy and quickly send experts to help, so as to set things right, eradicate these lowlifes, and maintain the peace of our Bluestar Academy's territory. Your brother Fu bows in respect."
After finishing, he checked it carefully.
He knew that his cousin, who served as an outer court deacon in the Bluestar Academy, did not have an extremely high status, but he valued the Academy's face above all else and was quite capable of pulling strings.
Once this letter arrived, his cousin would certainly not sit idly by, both to maintain his own influence within the Academy and to protect the interests in Bulwar.
"Damned things, you want to steal my business?"
Eranil snorted coldly, carefully folded the talisman paper, placed it into a jade box engraved with the simple cloud pattern of the Bluestar Academy, and applied a simple restriction.
"Let's see if you have the background to withstand the thunderous wrath of the Bluestar Academy."
He summoned a trusted guard, a man at the eighth level of mana gathering who had always been reliable in his duties.
"Take this secret letter to the Bluestar Academy personally and deliver it into the hands of my cousin, Deacon Wang Heng. There must be no mistakes. Remember, emphasize that the situation is urgent."
"Yes, Shopkeeper, rest assured."
The guard took the jade box with both hands, tucked it securely against his body, and turned to leave quickly. Upon exiting the back door, he mounted a flying dharma treasure and transformed into a streak of light, racing toward the Bluestar Academy.
Watching the guard's departing light, a ruthless smile appeared on Eranil's face.
The Bluestar Academy was one of the three major academies governing the surrounding thousands of miles. It was powerful, with Aurum professors presiding over it and over a hundred Rubedo disciples.
As long as his cousin could persuade the Academy to send one or two Late-stage Aurum deacons, or even invite an Aurum professor to intervene, the Sovereign Simulacra Academy would surely be doomed, even with a Aurum sorcerer presiding over it.
"Hmph, let's see how many more days you can remain arrogant."
Sovereign Simulacra Academy, on the viewing platform outside the main hall.
Steve's Abyssal Condenser clone stood with his hands behind his back, listening to reports on Academy construction and resource allocation.
Suddenly—
*Rumble!*
A dull, massive boom echoed without warning from the eastern horizon.
Immediately after, the entire area where the Sovereign Simulacra Academy was located began to vibrate slightly.
"Hmm?"
Steve's clone and Randy raised their heads simultaneously, looking toward the direction of the vibration.
In the sky hundreds of miles to the east, the clouds and winds suddenly shifted color.
The originally clear sky was being frantically churned by an invisible force, centered on a specific point across dozens of miles of clouds.
At the center of the vortex, streaks of glowing light burst forth, swirling with seven colors and illuminating half the sky magnificently.
At the same time, an ancient aura containing vast manaual energy spread from that direction. Even from such a distance, it could be clearly felt.
"A celestial phenomenon."
Randy's eyes narrowed, and he immediately gave an order.
"Reconnaissance squad, immediately lock onto the coordinates of the phenomenon's center."
Within the Sovereign Simulacra Academy, all disciples and staff stopped their work, gazing at the startling celestial changes in the east.
Soon, a deacon responsible for monitoring hurried over to report.
"Headmaster, Randy, based on the preliminary images and energy analysis sent back, the center of the phenomenon is located in a grassland about three hundred and seventy miles to the northeast."
"It has characteristics of spatial fluctuations and high-concentration manaual energy eruptions. Comparing this with the records in the local classics, there is a ninety percent probability that a secret realm is emerging."
"A secret realm?"
A sharp light flashed in the eyes of Steve's clone.
In the world of training, a secret realm often meant that opportunities and risks coexisted. They were ancient ruins, the grotto-dwellings of great experts, or naturally formed special spaces, often containing heavenly treasures, inherited techniques, or even rare resources.
"Notify everyone immediately to enter a state of alert."
Randy reacted quickly, giving orders in a deep voice.
"Order all reconnaissance squads in the field to close in on the secret realm for scouting. Pay attention to gathering information on the movements of other forces."
He looked at Steve's clone.
"Steve, what do you think? This secret realm appeared so suddenly and is so close to us; it will likely attract a large number of surrounding sorcerers."
Steve's clone pondered for a moment and said decisively.
"Opportunities are fleeting. Randy, you stay at the Academy to coordinate everything. I'll head over first to check the situation. Notify Muriel and Alex, and have them get ready. Their help might be needed if necessary."
"Alright, be extremely careful."
Randy knew Steve's clone was not weak and had life-saving means, but he still gave a solemn warning.
Steve's clone nodded and hesitated no longer. With a flicker of his body, he turned into a green streak of light, soaring into the sky and flying rapidly toward the location in the northeast where the glowing light pierced the heavens.
A distance of over three hundred miles was not far for the flight speed of the Aurum Stage.
The closer he got, the richer that vast and ancient manaual energy became. The turbulence of the heaven and earth manaual energy also rose sharply, and occasionally, tiny spatial cracks could even be seen flashing by.
Before long, a vast grassland came into view.
At this moment, the scene in the central area of this grassland had already changed drastically.
A giant light gate, over a hundred meters in diameter, stood upon the grassland.
The light gate was composed of seven-colored light, its edges rippling like water, while the interior was a deep, rotating chaotic vortex, making it impossible to see the specific scene inside.
Vast manaual energy was gushing out from the light gate, spreading in all directions.
On the grass around the light gate, many phantoms of exotic flowers and herbs had already appeared. Even the fragrance of some rare manaual medicines wafted with the wind; clearly, the aura from inside the secret realm had begun to leak out.
And at this moment, many figures had already gathered in the air and on the ground around the light gate.
Steve's clone lowered his flight light and landed on a small mound a few miles away from the light gate. He concealed his aura and scanned the scene.
Over a dozen figures were suspended in the air, each with a thick aura and imposing manaual pressure; not a single one was below the Aurum Stage.
Among them were four or five people whose auras were as deep as the sea and whose prestige far exceeded their peers; they were clearly Aurum Stage old monsters.
On the ground, there were also dozens of Aurum sorcerers, each forming small groups, warily eyeing the experts in the sky as well as other sorcerers who were arriving one after another.
"It actually attracted so many high-level sorcerers."
Steve's clone felt a slight chill in his heart.
It seemed the commotion of this secret realm's emergence was not small, drawing in almost all the experts from the surrounding areas.
With his clone's Aurum Stage training, he was no longer prominent in this place.
Right then, an impolite divine sense swept over, carrying obvious scrutiny and contempt.
"Hmph, another one who doesn't know death is coming. A mere sixth-level Aurum dares to come and wade into these muddy waters?"
A raspy voice rang out.
Steve's clone turned to look and saw a burly old man dressed in a crimson priest robe with his hair and beard flaring out, stepping through the air.
The old man's face was a purplish-red, and his eyes seemed to have flames dancing within them. His aura was violent and scorching; he was impressively a fire-attribute sorcerer at the Late-stage Aurum.
He looked at Steve with a disdainful gaze.
"This place has already been cordoned off by us. Idle people, get lost immediately. Otherwise, don't blame this old man for being heartless and teaching you what it means to have your body and soul extinguished."
The red-robed old man spoke arrogantly, a scorching manaual pressure rising from him as he pressed down directly toward Steve. Clearly, he wanted to kill the chicken to warn the monkeys, clearing out some competitors he deemed unqualified.
Many surrounding sorcerers cast sympathetic glances.
With the secret realm before them, the law of the jungle was displayed vividly; no one would stand up for a strange Aurum sorcerer.
Steve's clone frowned slightly; this old man's training was indeed quite a bit higher than this clone's.
Late-stage Aurum against Mid-stage Aurum was almost a crushing situation.
However, he felt little fear in his heart.
Even the source of abnormality couldn't break his defense, let alone them.
Just as the red-robed old man approached and prepared to casually strike with a Flaming Palm to clear away this junior who didn't know the heights of the heavens...
"Brother, are you alright?"
A crisp and pleasant voice, yet carrying a trace of cold killing intent, rang out beside Steve without warning.
Space rippled like water, and a petite figure emerged out of thin air.
It was Alex. She still possessed that exquisite and ethereal appearance, but at this moment, her aura was no longer deliberately restrained. A vast, eerie, and unfathomable pressure slowly permeated the air.
"Aurum stage?"
The red-robed old man's forward-charging figure suddenly halted. His expression changed drastically, and the contempt in his eyes was instantly replaced by shock and vigilance.
He stared fixedly at the suddenly appearing Alex, unable to believe his eyes.
This girl looked extremely young, yet her aura was so terrifying that it gave even him, a late Aurum sorcerer, a strong sense of oppression.
What made his skin crawl even more was how Alex addressed Steve—Brother?
Could it be that this green-robed youth, who seemingly only had a mid Aurum training, was actually hiding his true strength?
To have a Aurum stage sister, he himself must...
The red-robed old man was filled with uncertainty and did not dare to act rashly for a moment.
Alex didn't care at all what he was thinking. She sized up the red-robed old man, her delicate brows furrowing slightly, her small face full of displeasure.
"You want to kill my brother?"
Before her voice had even faded, and without any visible hand seals or spellcasting movements, the air around Alex suddenly twisted and folded.
In an instant, dozens, even hundreds of figures identical to Alex flashed simultaneously across the void within a hundred-meter radius, like reflections in a mirror.
Every figure was incredibly solid, their auras linked, their cold gazes locked onto the red-robed old man.
Clones, and so many of them, with auras almost identical to the original.
"What divine ability is this?"
The red-robed old man turned pale with horror. He had never seen such a bizarre clone technique that could instantly create hundreds of powerful clones. How much terrifying manaual power would that consume?
Furthermore, the appearance of these clones was without any warning, as if they had existed there all along.
In the next moment, these hundreds of Alex's figures converged, overlapped, and finally merged into one towards the central original body, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea.
But at the moment of fusion, the aura on Alex's body surged once more. Behind her, a terrifying phenomenon of countless interwoven broken mirror surfaces faintly emerged in the void.
The red-robed old man, Anorthil, the Third Headmaster of the Fire Sun Academy, finally realized what kind of formidable opponent he had provoked.
His face turned ashen. His mind raced, and he instantly changed his expression, cupping his hands with a forced smile.
"A misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding. I am Anorthil of the Fire Sun Academy. I did not know who Your Excellency and this fellow priest were. Cough, one cannot be blamed for what they do not know. Please do not take offense, fellow priest."
He tried to bring up the name of the Fire Sun Academy, hoping the other party would have some reservations.
"Sovereign Simulacra Academy."
Only then did Steve's clone speak indifferently. After stating the Academy's name, he said no more, turning his gaze toward the distant Secret Realm Light Gate, seemingly too bothered to argue with him.
Alex, however, continued to stare at Anorthil. She didn't care about any misunderstandings; she only knew that this red-faced old man had wanted to attack her brother just now.
Her iridescent eyes flickered slightly, and wisps of eerie black energy began to flow around her body.
Alarm bells rang in Anorthil's heart, and he felt an extremely bad premonition.
This girl's ability was too bizarre, and her killing intent had not dissipated.
Just then, Alex seemed to think of something. She raised her hand and made a grasping motion toward Anorthil.
Anorthil immediately went on full alert, his Magic Treasure Shield instantly activating.
However, the attack he anticipated did not descend.
Instead, he felt a strange Rule Power sweep over him.
Then, under Anorthil's horrified gaze, the space in front and to his side twisted. A mass of dense black gas churned and condensed, transforming into another Anorthil in the blink of an eye.
This Anorthil was also wearing a crimson priest robe, had a purple-red face, and even his manaual energy was identical to the original—also at the ninth level of the late Aurum stage.
The only difference was that this duplicate's eyes were pitch black, devoid of any luster, and his body was surrounded by the same eerie black gas as Alex's.
"What evil art is this?"
Anorthil cried out in shock.
Replicating a living late Aurum sorcerer?
This was simply unheard of. Even the highest-level illusion arts or Puppet Arts could hardly achieve such a lifelike result, even perfectly replicating the aura.
After the shadow Anorthil formed, there was no expression on his stiff face.
Looking at this duplicate made of pitch-black energy, identical to himself, Anorthil's pupils shrank, and a chill rose in his heart.
"Damn it, how can this little girl have such an ability?"
He had lived for hundreds of years and had seen Puppet Arts, clone techniques, and even evil arts of demonic Possession and body substitution, but he had never seen such a bizarre situation.
"To be able to perfectly replicate a living late Aurum sorcerer in an instant, even the manaual power fluctuations and physical strength are identical."
The shadow Anorthil stood quietly in mid-air, his eyes pitch black and soulless, surrounded by the same eerie black gas as Alex.
Anorthil's mind raced; though he was shocked, he did not panic.
Although the opponent's methods were strange, they were ultimately formed by external forces. How could they compare to the foundation he had painstakingly trained for hundreds of years?
Moreover, this shadow clearly lacked intelligence and fought only by instinct. Could he not even handle an empty shell?
"Playing tricks! Break for me!"
He shouted sharply. Instead of retreating, he struck first.
His crimson priest robe billowed without wind, and the fire manaual energy around him erupted, transforming into a twenty meter fire dragon that lunged toward the shadow with claws and fangs.
At the same time, his figure moved like lightning, following closely behind the fire dragon. He pointed his right hand like a sword, a point of piercing golden light condensing at his fingertip. This was one of his famous ultimate techniques.
The Red Sun Finger was extremely powerful.
Faced with the attack, the shadow Anorthil showed no fear or intention of dodging.
It merely tilted its head slightly, and a flash of thought seemed to pass through its eyes.
In the next moment, it also raised its right hand, its five fingers slightly curled. Black gas churned and surged around it. Although it didn't take the form of a fire dragon, it condensed into a deep, heavy black barrier, steadily blocking its front.
Boom!
The fire dragon crashed into the black barrier, letting out a deafening explosion. Fire and black gas corroded and annihilated each other.
Almost at the same instant, Anorthil's Red Sun Finger arrived, the golden light piercing toward the shadow's chest.
The shadow neither dodged nor avoided it. Its left palm abruptly reached out, black gas rotating in the palm, faintly forming a miniature Devouring Vortex that violently collided with the golden light of the Red Sun Finger.
Sizzle!
The golden light was rapidly worn away by the black gas.
Although the shadow was jolted back several steps by the force of the finger and the black gas on its surface rippled, it did not dissipate. Instead, the Devouring Vortex faintly absorbed a trace of the golden light's power.
"Hmph, you have the form but not the mana. Let's see how much more you can mimic."
Seeing this, Anorthil felt slightly relieved, and his expression of mockery deepened.
This shadow had indeed only mimicked the appearance and basic manaual power. As for the essence of the training techniques and the methods of exerting force, it clearly knew nothing, relying entirely on a bizarre combat instinct to endure.
His attacks grew more urgent. As the Third Vice-Headmaster of the Fire Sun Academy, having immersed himself in fire-attribute techniques for hundreds of years, his moves were already perfected.